Lieutenant Colonel Callis was an officer of the Military State.

She was proud of that fact.

Having distinguished herself since secondary military school, she had naturally gone on to an advanced military academy. After graduating with excellent marks, she became an honored officer of the Military State.

Graduation from the academy conferred Level 3 citizenship. As her Level 3 citizenship was inscribed on her biometric terminal, Callis shed tears for the first time, overcome by all the sorrow she had endured.

Level 3 citizens enjoyed many privileges, but the greatest of them was acquiring inheritance rights.

Only citizens of Level 3 and above could inherit property.

The first thing Callis did upon becoming an officer was visit the veterans affairs office and claim her father's estate before it was destroyed.

A house with a yard, an old but luxurious motor carriage, a gold-leafed sword, and a special military armament.

Things that would otherwise have been reclaimed by the state treasury. Childhood memories that would have been torn apart beneath the engineers' shovels.

Callis was proud to have secured all of it intact. With her own hands, her own abilities, she had protected memories that might otherwise have been buried beneath concrete.

'I can't stop there.'

Having struggled tooth and nail to come this far, shouldn't she naturally aim higher?

Level 4 citizens could use every facility in the Military State without restriction. They could even own land, employ private servants, and temporarily confer Level 3 citizenship on their spouses upon marriage.

Above all, Level 3 citizens only had the right to receive an inheritance... but those of Level 4 and above could bequeath property.

She could pass her father's legacy, along with all the wealth she would build upon it, down to the next generation without losing any of it.

To leave something behind.

That alone made Level 4 worth striving for.

But talent alone was not enough to reach Level 4. Only with the right opportunity, sufficient luck, and the ability to seize them could one barely attain it.

Even her father, an excellent officer... had only reached Level 4 through a special two-rank promotion, thanks to choosing the right place to die.

Had her father not happened to be near headquarters when it was in danger, had his death been even a little less heroic, Callis would have received no inheritance regardless of her own level.

'Fortunately, an opportunity came my way, too.'

“They” had approached her just as she became an officer. Brimming with ambition but lacking the courage to throw herself into danger, she took their hand so that she could plunge herself into hell.

Though assigned to incidents beyond her limits, Lieutenant Colonel Callis made full use of her abilities and distinguished herself. She even received a medal at the New Year's address.

After several more such accomplishments, she attained the rank of lieutenant colonel at a relatively young age.

Then came the new mission “they” entrusted to her.

Infiltrate Tantalus, the bottomless pit, and assess the situation inside.

More precisely:

'To identify anything that might interfere when we secure the King of Dogs.'

Tantalus was a realm of horrors one should never enter... but the recent jailbreak had greatly reduced its danger. Even the convict laborer sent down ahead of her—a petty criminal used for reconnaissance, known in the Military State as “litmus”—was reportedly still alive.

It was an order she had to obey regardless, but calculations like these also lay behind Lieutenant Colonel Callis's ready acceptance. If she carried out this task successfully, even “they” would be unable to discard her.

Seeing an opportunity, Callis volunteered to serve as supply supervisor and dropped into Tantalus under the pretense of an accident.

But plans always took a turn for the worse.

As though they were destined to.

Right after the officer dropped in, I began setting aside time every day to play with Azi. I sighed as I slipped the heavy discs between my fingers.

“Ah. I used to be able to put in the bare minimum when I played with you. Now that I've got competition, I can't catch a break.”

The affection I'd built up over three months was still there, but this fickle-tailed little puppy rushed toward any human she saw. How was I supposed to take my eyes off her?

I threw the discs. Azi jumped.

She leaped up and caught one in her mouth, kicked off the wall to snatch another, then stretched her body out, drawing on the strength she had kept in reserve. Her body bounced upward in midair. It looked as though she had stepped on the air itself to change direction.

Having successfully caught the last disc in her mouth as well, Azi landed, her eyes shining with delight.

“Woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof!”

“Three discs, success!”

“Wooooof!”

A difficult challenge, repeated attempts, and the thrill of success made for an incredible sense of reward. Azi hopped up and down a few times, savoring her joy.

As I pulled the discs out of her mouth, she cried out, eyes sparkling.

“Woof! Competition, good!”

“What competition? The only competition you know is fighting over food.”

Did she think parroting big words counted as human speech? You had to know what they meant for that.

As I scoffed, Azi spoke with a sunny smile.

“Monopoly, bad! Makes you lazy! Like you!”

“... Monopoly? Where did you learn a word like that?”

“Woof, woof! Ball! More!”

“These are discs... Anyway, now that we've managed three, what next? Hmm.”

I scratched my chin, thinking, then snapped my fingers as an idea struck me.

Oh, hang on. Could this be our chance? Was it finally time to try that?

“Hey, Azi. Any interest in trying four discs?”

“Woof? I like! Still can't!”

Azi would be happy if I threw them. It was play, after all. But she meant there was simply no way to make it work.

Since she couldn't actually step on air, it was an objective assessment of her abilities. She couldn't change direction in midair without something to push off.

“But what if I became your foothold?”

“Woof?”

“Right. Jump for one, step on me for another, kick off the wall for the third, then use your last bit of strength for the fourth. That's how we'll do it!”

“Woof! I like! You?”

“Might as well give it a try.”

Until now, Azi had only needed to read my movements. With four discs, we would have to work in sync. She would need to keep a close eye on my position, then step on me and leap at just the right moment, once I was ready, to reach them.

All right, let's see.

I went down on one knee and braced my arm firmly against the other, so my body wouldn't wobble when Azi stepped on me.

“I'll throw them one at a time. Go for the closest first.”

“Woof!”

“All right, go!”

WHOOSH! WHOOSH! WHOOSH! WHOOSH!

I threw four discs in quick succession, starting with the closest and working outward. Then, watching Azi rush toward me, I braced myself firmly.

... But hold on. Azi might be the King of Dogs, but she was in human form right now. Which meant her weight was roughly...

Huh.

“Wait, time—”

Before I could finish, Azi leaped straight at me.

An impact like being hit by a carriage slammed into me.

Having seen me tumble across the concrete, Tyr scolded me the moment she saw me.

“You should have been more careful!”

“I'm fine. See? All healed.”

I showed her my arms and legs. The scrapes from skidding across the concrete had vanished completely.

One of the Beast Kings' powers: licking wounds better. As beings of concepts, Beast Kings could heal by licking, and Azi had made full use of that ability on me.

Tyr sighed at the sight of my already-healed wounds.

“... It does not please me, but I suppose it is fortunate that the Beast King is here. A lick... can heal your wounds, at least.”

“Why doesn't it please you?”

“How could I possibly be on close terms with the King of Dogs? We were once sworn enemies.”

“Azi is this generation's King of Dogs, though. There must be a few dozen generations between her and the one you fought back then.”

“Even so, is their essence not the same? My unease does not simply disappear. And another thing.”

Tyr poked my shoulder with two fingers, directing a prim, disapproving look at me.

“A few dozen generations? How unkind. It was only a few hundred years ago.”

“I don't know why you'd put ‘only’ before ‘a few hundred,’ but I think that's actually right. Kings of Dogs tend to have short lives.”

“Do they not wear human bodies and age as humans do? If so, how could a King of Dogs with such a comfortable life have a short lifespan?”

“They're always fighting the King of Wolves.”

“The King of Wolves?”

“Oh, you don't know that story? It's in children's storybooks all the time.”

For a moment, Tyr forgot her worries and looked at me with eager anticipation. Her blood-red eyes sparkled.

For the story-starved Progenitor, I recited the fairy tale just as I remembered it.

The King of Dogs and the King of Wolves.

The two were once beasts who lived together as loving brothers. Both fond of running in packs, they worked together to corner their prey, then kill it with a bite to the neck.

It was usually the small, nimble dog who cornered their prey, while the wolf, with his sharp teeth, delivered the killing bite. Clever, quick, and perfectly in sync, they helped each other and spent their days hunting in pastoral peace.

Then one day, a shepherd came to their home, driving a cloudlike flock of sheep.

The shepherd was looking for grass to feed his sheep. As he surveyed the area, he spotted the dog, who happened to be out scouting, and called to him.

“Little wolf, over there. Could you lead me to a place full of wild grass? I'll give you something tasty in return.”

Wild grass was worthless to the dog. He led the shepherd partway up a hill where it grew thickly. The shepherd was delighted to see the broad slope covered in green grass.

“What a good wolf you are! Thank you! Here, have this bone with meat on it!”

The dog had received a delicious bone simply for pointing out some grass he couldn't even eat. Excited, he took the bone in his mouth and ran straight to the wolf to tell him all about it.

The human tending the sheep gave out such delicious meat! Bragging about what he had earned, he shared his spoils.

Excited by the story, the wolf ran off and sank his teeth into the neck of a lamb grazing at the edge of the flock. Had the furious shepherd not struck him with his staff, he would not have stopped at one.

Struck across the back, the wolf quickly fled with the limp lamb in his jaws.

The hunt had succeeded, but neither the dog nor the wolf was satisfied. One lamb was too small to feed them both.

The dog missed the meaty bone, while the wolf feared the heavy wooden staff.

The wolf wanted the dog's help on the next hunt. He ordered the dog to distract the shepherd while he hunted the largest sheep.

Then, saying he needed to heal his wounds, he devoured the lamb he had caught in a single gulp.

All the dog received was a single bone with not a trace of meat left on it.

The next day, the two split up and approached the flock as planned. The King of Dogs appeared before the shepherd to draw his attention first.

Spotting the dog lingering in front of him, the shepherd rose, leaning on his hard wooden staff. But instead of swinging it, he waved broadly and spoke.

“Good wolf, show me where that big fellow who carried off my sheep is. I'll give you a bone covered in meat.”

The shepherd offered a bone covered in meat. The wolf offered a bone without a scrap of flesh.

After a moment's thought, the dog accepted the shepherd's offer. He led the shepherd toward the wolf's approach, and the wolf, who had been hiding, was beaten soundly and driven from the pasture.

From that day on, the dog lived alongside humans, while the wolf howled whenever the full moon rose, recalling the pain and betrayal of that day...

“... You don't know the story about how that started the feud between the King of Dogs and the King of Wolves? There must have been a King of Wolves back then, too.”

Tyr looked thoroughly captivated by my tale. After lingering under its spell, she emerged from it and lifted her gaze slightly, searching her old memories.

“The wolf... Ah. Of course. I had forgotten. The one that led the wild dogs in their attacks.”

“Understandable. To vampires, the King of Dogs and the King of Wolves probably seemed much the same. Dogs who were friends to humans, or wolves who came running at the smell of blood.”

“Regardless, it is a fascinating tale. Today was my first time hearing it.”

“But it's a children's storybook tale.”

“I had no one by my side to tell me such tales... Though that is no longer the case.”

Tyr snapped her fingers. A shadow rose beside me and formed an antique chair. Settling into it, she looked up at me with concern.

“In any event, do not get hurt. If you are injured, who will tell me stories and make my heart beat?”

“It was only a little blood. I'll just think of what I spilled as a gift to you, Tyr.”

“Nonsense.”

A small hand slapped my right arm. It didn't hurt at all.

Then Tyr took hold of that arm with the same hand and whispered to me with unparalleled earnestness.

“Your blood tastes terrible. So keep it safe inside your body. Do not spill so much as a single drop.”

With so much worry in her voice, I had to tell her I understood and reassure her over and over.